


somewhere else

by asifcaves



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F, First Time, Fluff, PWP, basically porn without plot, brook and Poussey forever, second person narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:22:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asifcaves/pseuds/asifcaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You take her hand, because you feel like sharing this moment. You feel like sharing lots of things. Her fingers wrap around yours and she fits like a glove.</p>
            </blockquote>





	somewhere else

**Author's Note:**

> At first this was going to be a character study, but it's basically just porn. Enjoy!

You put your finger down her throat and it's like your index is disappearing down a deep dark cave. Her teeth are little white stalactites and for a second you think, " _Shit, what if she bites down?_ "

She doesn't, she just pukes and even though you lose what's left of your lunch, you're both okay.

So, at least there's that.

Taystee and Susan lug her to her feet and half-walk-half-drag her down the hall, slipping from shadow to shadow. When you reach the cafeteria, Susan goes in first as a distraction.

Two steps in, Soso stumbles against your side and her head lolls onto your shoulder. Her cheek is soft, and it presses right in that place you like, the crook between neck and chest where so many girls have rested their heads as you held them. Her breath is cool and sweet on your skin.

You don't look at her face, but when you and Taystee slide down the wall in the back of the room and keep her body propped up between you, you take her forearm into your lap and softly stroke up and down, comforting the way your Mama used to when you wept. Soso is warm and solid against you.

You make believe she's conscious and close to you of her own accord.

You make believe your touch is something she'd want.

-

Soso shuffles around for the next couple of days like the walking deceased. Her eyes are blank and far away, and you avoid her, scared she knows it was you that pulled her back from the edge, scared she resents you sparing her for this life.

Seems like she died anyway, she certainly looks like a ghost.

A hush follows her in the halls, and inmates avert their gaze. It must be lonely, you think in yoir dramatic moments, to be dead in the land of the living.

-

The lake is warm like bath water. There's a smell of sulfur in the air, but you're not inclined to mind much. The sun has never seemed this bright, and it bakes you languid and serene, floating boneless in the water's embrace.

A body brushes yours, then a hand, an arm. You glance over and there's Soso, a look on her face to match yours.

You take her hand, because you feel like sharing this moment. You feel like sharing lots of things. Her fingers wrap around yours and she fits like a glove.

-

That night, Soso creeps into your bed and wedges herself between you and the brick wall. She's so warm you can barely keep yourself from pressing up against her. You blink at her; she's breathing heavy like she's been running a long time.

She puts a slender hand on your cheek and kisses you soft and tender, like there's a well of love inside her she's desperate to share.

You kiss and kiss and kiss, and your mouth feels like it's melting into hers, her tongue slides over yours and her lips are the softest things you've touched in a long time. You slip a hand under her shirt and cup the warm swell of her breast, your thumb skimming across a hardening nipple. She puts an arm around you and strokes up your back, under your tank top.

"Can I-?" you manage, breathless and panting already and she nods like she's in awe, eyes wide.

Your hand goes down the front of her pants, into her underwear, and you find the fabric damp. She gasps when you slip a finger inside her and stroke gently over her clit, your touch slick from her own wetness.

Soso makes a sound that might be a laugh when you drag your finger around her in circles, rubbing slow, mapping her out. She keeps trying to pull you closer, and her thigh is between your legs without you knowing how it got there. She nuzzles her face into your neck and licks a hot stripe up your skin. Her teeth are on your pulse point. You kiss her again, and push two fingers inside her. She bucks into your touch, and when you shift so your body covers hers, you feel electrified, stupefied. Your fucking cells know her name.

Her hands clawing up your back. Her hair in your mouth. The mattress spring you know must be digging into her back. Loops and loops of feedback, and you couldn't stop if you tried.

You want to taste her but you know you can't, not here at least. You speed up at the thought, dragging your fingers up to her clit and then back down to push hard inside her cunt. Your mouth finds her delicate neck and _bites_.

She comes gasping your name, her thighs squeezing you breathless.

Then, she watches you, eyes half-lidded and pupils blown, as you pull your hand out of her pants and lick your fingers clean. You trace her mouth with your thumb and she wraps her tongue around it and sucks. Her eyes flutter closed.

You lay there for hours afterwards, not touching yourself, not thinking, not nothing.

You want to preserve how sweet wanting something tangible feels.

-

The next morning she puts her mouth to you in the chapel and you arch your back and groan, "Brook," so low it reverberates through your whole body.

She smiles up at you and there's a brightness in her eyes you've never seen before.

Sunlight pours through the stain glass windows and paints blue, yellow, red pictures on the wall behind you.

After, you hold her against you, and her soft cheek rests in the crook of your neck.

It's hell here, in the prison, but with a girl pressed against you and the early morning light trickling in, it seems like somewhere else.


End file.
